It's Only Life
by Pointy Objects
Summary: Our battles are repetitious, if not broken, poetry. Sequel to Back Home. Completed!
1. Raindrops and Fortune Pies

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It's Only Life

**Chapter One: Raindrops and Fortune Pies**

_"It's okay to be angry and never let go,  
It only gets harder the more that you know.  
When you get lonely _

_If no one's around __you know that I'll catch you when you're falling down  
We came together but you left alone  
And I know how it feels to walk out on your own..."_

"_Empty Apartment"_

_YellowCard_

* * *

_"...Yeah, she's here."_

Helga was unsure of when she fell asleep (in fact, she was pretty unsure of how she happened to find herself in a bed at all) and quietly assessed her surroundings, all the while listening to the voice outside of her door.

The room was, while not completely in shambles, in need of some repair. The faded, blue wallpaper was peeling enough to reveal the aged, yellow glue beneath it, and the carpet under her had numerous spots and stains, from years of misuse. The room held little to no furniture; an old nightstand sat beside the dresser, serving little purpose and the bed, that obviously came out from the wall (indicated by the vacant, rectangular space above her) was creaky and smelled like old newspapers. The tiny window to her left was dirty and faced a solid brick wall.

The room was anything but "welcoming", but Helga took it all in, knowing that this was the only place that she wanted to be. Burying her face in the wrinkled sheets of her pull-out bed, Helga felt her chest constrict again. She had long-since stopped crying (especially after she mentally scolded herself for doing so over _them_), but the brief convulsions in her chest still plagued her hours later.

Above all else, she wanted to believe that it was a dream. That the reason why Olga had called Arnold was because her ice cream cake was melting or she left her presents at the pavilion. She wanted to believe that the rain that was still cascading down on the ancient roof above her, was just a short, summer storm, and that'd it'd pass just in time for Drew to get her so caught up in a conversation about the fourth and fifth books in the James Patterson series, that she forgot to play Frisbee with her friends on the other side of the hill. She wanted to believe that when she finally got the strength to get out of the bed, that her friends would be worried about her because she missed most of her party, and not because they were suddenly cautious about how to approach the subject of her estranged, and instantly returning..._parents_. The word itself left a foul taste in her mouth and heart, mostly because they hadn't been her "parents" for the past eight years, and because she saw no point in their sudden (and frankly, unwanted) presence in her life.

They were ruining _everything_...

Before Helga could sulk further, leading to another fit of unintentional tears, the door opened slowly, the person behind it obviously under the impression that she was still asleep. Shifting her head toward the door and rubbing her cheek on the damp sheets, Helga attempted a smile. Arnold stood in front of the door, a lopsided smile on his face as well. After checking the vacancy of the illuminated hallway, he slipped inside, kneeling down next to the bed. Reaching to move a few locks of soggy, blonde hair from her face.

"You okay?" he asked, with the caution that she dreaded to hear, especially from him.

"Mmm..." Helga sighed, moving her hand to rub her eye. "What time is it?" The only window in her room didn't let nearly enough light in for her to assess the time of day.

"Around 7:30 at night. Olga was pretty worried, but I think she understands."

Helga was quiet for a few moments, glad that her sister wasn't angry with her. "I don't want to go back there. Not yet." she said, in a voice that was weaker than she intended. Since when did they, of all people, have the power to break her. Shaking the thought, she convinced herself that she was not "broken". She didn't have time to be "broken".

"You don't have to. She and Drew said you can stay in the boarding house until you're feeling better." Arnold said, standing up and offering his hand. Helga followed him and pried herself off of the bed. There was a wet spot on the bed, where the rainwater transferred from her clothing and skin to the bed, but she still felt the uncomfortable cling that held the water to her self. Taking Arnold's hand, she listened as he told her that she didn't have to stay in the dilapidated room for the night.

"By the way, does Drew happen to own a gun?"

Helga looked at Arnold with shock. "No. Why?" she asked.

"Because when I told him that we'd be putting you in a nicer room, he said that if it happened to be mine, he wouldn't be held accountable for the lead that would suspiciously be found in various parts of my body."

Helga smiled, equally pleased the Drew wasn't upset with her. In essence, she ran away from a party that obviously took much time and effort, over two people who were hardly worth it. The thought that Drew and Olga understood her anger and didn't hold it against her, made her miss them. But she was still cautious about returning back to the apartment. What if they came for her? What if they wanted to talk? She wasn't ready to face them yet. She didn't see herself _ever _being ready to face them.

"Don't worry, I don't think Drew has even been within five feet of a shooting range, let alone a handgun." she smiled.

"Good to know." Arnold replied, squeezing Helga's hand a little tighter. "Do you want something to eat? You can wait up in my room, if you want."

Helga shook her head. "I can come with you. I like your house." she said, attempting a tiny smile. The two started down the hallway, and down the steps. At the bottom, where the foyer was as empty as the rest of the house, Helga stopped abruptly, focusing on the doorway, silently remembering how she found herself inside Arnold's house.

She sat on the doorstep for no longer than twenty minutes, sobbing uncontrollably, but not loud enough to be heard over the pounding rain around her. When Gertie opened the door, wearing a large chef's hat, to dispose of some stew that had gone bad, she spotted Helga, and called into the house for a "medic". Once inside, she promptly wrapped a shivering and shaking Helga in a wool blanket, and from there on, it was a blur.

"Something wrong?" Arnold asked, when Helga stood stagnate at the bottom of the stairwell, staring questioningly at the front door.

Snapping out of her reverie, Helga shook her head, but stayed silent. The two moved on into the kitchen, where Arnold rummaged through the refrigerator, looking for something to eat. Regarding the house around her, Helga walked the nearest hallway, finding her way to her favorite room in the long-standing residence. Forgetting Arnold momentarily, Helga pushed to door open and smiled.

She called it the "TV Room", even though Arnold and his grandparents didn't really call it anything. It was a fairly common room; a few couches and chairs, desks, a coffee table and of course, the wide and ancient television set. The room absolutely ached of memories; none of which Helga personally experienced, but she heard the stories enough to imagine them. Arnold told her of the numerous time he came home upset (usually over something that she said or did) and recalled how his grandfather would comfort him within this room. Specifically, she thought about the time he told her about the journal of his father's that he found, and remembered the tone of his voice when describing the hand-drawn map on the last page. She knew that Arnold still held out hope; even when he was feeling down, or angry, that hope somehow kept him grounded. He was still ridiculously optimistic to her at times, but she appreciated it for the influence it had on her.

Helga could only hope to feel the same when it came time for her to face her own family.

"Thought I lost you for a second there…." Arnold said, standing in the doorway. Helga smiled at the exertion with which he spoke, as if he checked every room on the floor looking for her.

"Sorry." she stated, turning from him to further inspect the room. Gently running her fingers over the shelf lined with dusty books, she spoke again. "This is my favorite room in your whole house…"

"Really? How come?" he asked, stepping into the room with her, carrying two plates with him and setting them down on top of the coffee table in front of the couch.

"I'm not sure. It's so untouched…it just is, I guess."

Arnold nodded, noticing that the small, genuine smile that briefly graced Helga's face was beginning to fade. Even after he let her know that she didn't have to return home for a few days, he was aware that the thought was still daunting to her. "Unfortunately, there isn't much food in here. I found some dessert, though." he said, motioning for her to come over.

"Dessert?" Helga asked, turning from the bookshelf to Arnold.

"Banana cream or Apple?" Arnold asked, holding up two plates of warm pie and smiling.

"I'm a fan of trying new things but I'll go with the apple this time." Helga said, taking a seat on the faded, old couch.

"I'll have you know, that this is no ordinary pie. These are fortune pies. Grandma only makes them every once and a while." Arnold explained, diving into his. "The trick is, not to read your fortune until you've finished your pie."

Helga shook her head at the absurdity of the idea, but smiling, thinking about Gertie dispensing pies to everyone with a little message inside. The two ate in relative silence, and Arnold finished off his slice before Helga, and read off of his tiny slip of paper while she finished, wiping banana cream off of the sheet.

"What's it say?" Helga asked, leaning over.

"'_A woman's faults are many, but men have only two: Everything they say, and everything they do.'_" he said, smiling.

"I agree wholeheartedly." Helga, through her final mouthful of apple pie.

"Very funny. What about yours?" Arnold asked.

"Hold on." Helga said, wiping crumbs from her lips, and picking up the piece of paper that she set aside on the rim of her plate. "_'Inner peace is found by changing yourself, not the people who hurt you. And you change yourself for yourself, for the joy, serenity, peace of mind, understanding, compassion, laughter, and bright future that you get.'_" Helga said, lowering the paper to her lap, and looking serious. Her mouth was a straight line drawn across her face, and she looked at her hands intently.

"Helga, I…I don't think she did it on purpose." Arnold said, resting his hand on her shoulder, reassuringly.

Helga attempted a brief smile, but it faltered and died as quickly as it developed. "I know." she replied, her voice cracking. "That doesn't it any easier to hear."

"I know…I know that one day, probably soon, I'm going to have to confront them. I just can't right now. I'm too angry."

"It's okay to be angry, Helga." Arnold offered.

Helga began taking in sudden and shallow breaths, expelling them audibly. "I know. I'm just…I'm _so _angry, Arnold. I've never felt like this in my entire life. I don't like being this angry, I don't." she said, feeling her chin begin to tremble.

"When I saw them today…I couldn't see for a minute. I couldn't hear anything, I just…I _froze_. I was so mad. Arnold, it's scary for me to feel this way. I mean, I've always been an 'angry' person, but something is wrong. I know it's not right for me to feel like this, but-"

"No." Arnold said, holding her face between his hands, and turning it so that she had no where else to look. He spoke quickly and impatiently, like a balloon too filled with air and ready to pop. "You deserve to be angry. You're entitled to feel this way. Even _I_ was angry when I found out that they were there." He said, disgrace shadowing his face, momentarily. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you…"

Helga placed her own hands over his, and squeezed them gingerly, hoping that his eyes would meet hers again. When they did she spoke quietly, her voice still shaky. "It's okay. I probably wouldn't have believed you anyway…"

Arnold focused again, remembering that Helga was still feeling confused and angry regarding the situation surrounding her parents. "Helga…I don't want you to feel bad about being upset. If you do choose to accept them back into your life, and that's completely your decision to make, just remember that forgiveness isn't about making what they did okay. It doesn't even mean that you're over what they did to you. Forgive for yourself, because you're a better person and you want to move on. Don't try to clear their consciences, because that's something that only they can do for themselves."

Helga looked down, breaking their enduring gaze and shifted her eyes to the floor. Soon thereafter, she looked back at Arnold, who still held her face, looking intense and sincerely concerned. "Thank you", she mouthed, leaning forward and falling into his chest. He released her face, and embraced her, resting his head atop hers. Once her breathing evened and she seemed relaxed, Arnold too loosened up.

Arnold was aware that the next few days, weeks, months…however long Helga's parents decided to stay were going to be difficult. More difficult than moving back to Hillwood, or hiding her identity or growing closer to Olga. It required a transformation on her part, as well as that of her parents, and in truth, she could still be left disappointed in the end. She could grow to a sense of inner peace without having the sentiment returned. But, even more for her future, Arnold feared what she would become if she didn't accept help and try to change, even in the slightest. She would close up, as she usually did when faced with difficulty, and shut everyone else.

Holding her a little tighter, Arnold could tell that she was drifting off, and silently hoped that she could feel his thoughts, and know that he would be there, regardless. When he gently tried to rouse her, she stirred, but made no gestures to signify that she was ready to leave.

"Don't fall asleep; I have to take you to your room." Arnold said, nudging her slightly, but keeping his voice low.

"Mmm, no this is fine…" Helga mumbled against his shirt.

Arnold chuckled. "What about your brother?" he asked.

"Drew said he'd shoot you if I was in your _bedroom_. This is the TV room." she said, slowly lifting herself off of him and stretching. "But I would like to go to bed, thanks." she finished, tiredly.

After Arnold showed Helga to her room and closed the door behind her, he walked up the stairs to his own room, contemplating the day that lay behind them. He was more than happy to have Helga stay with him as she weathered through the ordeal, and eave happier that she trusted him as much as she did. All the while, however, he was aware of Helga's habits regarding such situations. When against the wall, Helga was not ashamed to flee, hard and fast. He hoped that her strategies would change when it came to her once alienated parents.

For her own sake, something was going to have to change.

* * *

_The Sequel is here! I'm excited, but still very scared. Like...extremely scared. The concept is crystal clear in my head, but that doesn't always translate well to words. Just stick with it. A boring beginning, I suppose, but I liked it. A reacquainting with the characters, if you will._

_I have character photos on my site (link is on the profile), and they're quite good._

_Hope you enjoyed!_

_-Pointy_Objects_


	2. Warwick Avenue

**It's Only Life **

**Chapter Two: Warwick Avenue**

_"When I get to Warwick Avenue,  
Please drop the past and be true.  
Don't think we're okay,  
Just because I'm here.  
You hurt me bad, but I won't shed a tear..."_

_"_**_Warwick Avenue"- Duffy_**

* * *

"Are you breathing?"

"Yes…"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive…"

"Really? Because, I'm looking at you right now, and you don't look like you're bre-"

"Arnold, rest assured, I will tear your lips off, if you don't shut up." Helga said, her arms uncrossing so that she could reach out and grip Arnold's forearm roughly. From her tone and her clench that she wasn't seriously upset. At least, not at him.

Her grip grew slack and she let her arm fall limp between them in the old Packard. The anger washed from her face and Helga sat in the car, looking nothing short of despondent. Her other hand repeatedly dashed in and out of her pocket, fingering the tiny ring that she kept in her pocket.

"I'm not sure if I told you, but I'm really proud of you for doing this. You know that, right?" Arnold said, latching onto her hand before she let it slip back onto her lap. He gave her hand a squeeze so that she'd respond.

Helga nodded in response, allowing a tiny smile to grace her face. "I wish you people would quit being 'proud' of me and let me got to the stinkin' park…" she said, jokingly. Helga coined the phrase after a particularly brutal fight between herself and Olga a few months back, where she immediately retreated to Tina Park. After arriving back home, she found herself grounded and with a new phrase. "Going to the park" was Helga's code for running away from a situation that she'd rather avoid than tackle.

"Unfortunately, that's not an option." Arnold said, chidingly, as he found a parking space along the curb, across from the small establishment. "You should be proud, Helga."

Helga sighed, and turned from Arnold to the Ice cream parlor across the street. "It's different for me, Arnold. I haven't done anything special. I'm just here. I might not even go in…" she said, leaning her head on the window of the car. Despite the summer heat, the glass was cool against her forehead.

"You can do this. You've already made the first step: being the bigger person, and putting some of your anger aside for the sake of your sister."

Helga pouted and audibly huffed, thinking of how Olga "roped" her into coming, against her will.

* * *

"_They called."_

_Helga was exiting her room, having finished her third crossword puzzle of the day, and looking for another newspaper to scribble on. Drew was bound to have one or two lying around. The man was unusually obsessed with them. She was refusing to leave the house, and with good reason. Even though it was a full week since she'd seen her "biological gene donors" as she now called them, she was till certain that they were waiting around any street corner, eager to talk to her._

"_So?" Helga asked, refusing to care about anything that they had to say. They could go jump up a rope, for all she cared. _

"_They want to meet. On Friday. At that ice cream place down on Warwick Avenue." Olga said, wringing her hands, nervously. _

_Helga made her way around Olga in the narrow hallway, and walked into the living room area. To her left sat Drew, facing her on the couch, a fresh newspaper in his hands. He was reading, but still clearly absorbed in the conversation going on between his wife and sister-in-law._

"_Drew, can I have the crossword puzzle?" she asked, holding her hand out to him. His response was only to move the paper further up, shielding his face from the two blondes. Helga huffed and turned away from him._

"_Did you hear me, Helga?" Olga asked, calmly._

"_Yeah, I heard you." Helga replied, trying not to get too frustrated. Unfortunately her "genetic DNA benefactors" had the power to do so without even speaking to her. "Have fun. Bring me home a carton of Triple Chocolate Fudge." _

_Drew shook his head from behind the paper and Olga sighed, gathering her patience. "Helga, I would really like it if you'd come."_

_Helga yanked open the refrigerator, and stared at the contents angrily. 'She wants me to come along? And do what?' she asked herself. "And I'd like it if they disappeared from the face of the earth." Helga responded. _

"_You should give them a chance, Helga. People change." Olga suggested. _

"_I doubt people change that much…" _

"_We don't have to stay long. We can even-"_

_Helga took a deep breath and interrupted. "I'm gonna stop you right there, Olga. I don't want to go to see them. I don't ever want to see them. I think they're terrible people, and even if they did change, which I find hard to believe, it doesn't change the fact that they left us. Do you get that? They abandoned their kids. Why would you want to get to know people who do that? Regardless, you can do whatever you want. But I refuse to open myself up to that again. " Helga asked. Taking her weight off of the fridge, Helga stood up and looked her sister in the face. "Maybe it's just harder for you…"_

"_What is?" Olga asked, as though she were offended. _

"_Letting go of your image of them. Maybe, because you were so close to them, what they did doesn't hurt as much." Helga said, turning away from her sister. _

_In an instant, Helga was whirled around, with her back roughly pressed up against the refrigerator. Before she could open her mouth to retort, Olga was in her face, eyes brimming with tears and angry lines running across her forehead. _

"_Now, you listen to me. I am trying everything I can to keep us together. All I've ever asked of you is to work with me! Fine! Don't come! Stay in your room and sulk and don't let anyone try and help you, but don't you dare tell me that I wasn't hurt by what happened to us! More than for myself, I was hurting for you. So, don't give me any crap about how it effected me, because you don't know!" Olga shouted, angrily. "When I said that you and Drew were all the family that I needed, I meant it. I'm not going to let anything, especially our parents, tear us apart, understand?"_

_Helga met her sister's eyes, trying to quell the quivering of her chin and bottom lip, in response to her sister's outburst. Moving tentatively forward, Helga wrapped her arms around Olga's shoulders and gave hr sister a small, yet sincere hug. _

"_I'm sorry…" she whispered. Her anger was never directed at Olga. She and Drew had been nothing but amazing to her, and she always regretted her brief lapses into anger at either of them. _

_Olga returned the gesture, and stood up, wiping at her face briefly and running a hand through her hair. "It's quite alright, Helga." she said, clearing her voice. "Now, I'm going to the office to pick up a few things, and then, when I come back, we will have dinner. Like the family that we are, okay?" she asked. Helga nodded and watched her gather her bag and leave. _

_Helga settled back against the dining room table, her interest piqued when she saw Drew pull the newspaper up to his face again. Walking over to him, she placed her hands on her hips, as if waiting for something. Drew lowered the paper, and looked at her quizzically._

"_Yes?"_

"_Well? What do you think of all this?" Helga asked. _

"_Oh no, I'm not even touching that. I am Switzerland to your Poland and Germany." he said, shaking his head. _

_Helga sighed. "This is what happens when college professors decide to marry each other…"_

"_All I'm saying is…I think you're right. You have that right to be upset and to not go see your…parents, if you don't want to." he said, folding up the paper and handing it to Helga. "But…_

"_There's always a big butt in one of these things…"_

"_But, I don't think you should let your resentment get in the way of your growth as a person. And it definitely shouldn't get in the way of free ice cream." Drew said, leaving the room. _

_Helga stood alone for a moment, thinking over what he said. Snapping her head up, she turned in the direction of the hallway where Drew just disappeared. "Hey! What happened to being Switzerland?!"_

* * *

"I don't think I can do this." Helga said, standing on the sidewalk, looking toward the building, but turning away quickly. Arnold immediately stepped forward, and took hold of both of her hands.

"Yes, you can. You can do this." he rebutted, reassuringly. "Say it."

Helga exhaled loudly, moving her shoulders to relieve some of the tension, but keeping her hands in Arnold's. "Okay, fine, I can do this." she said, reluctantly.

"Do you want me to walk in with you?"

"No…if I'm going to do it, then I just need to bite the bullet and do it, right?" she finished, not really seeking an answer.

Arnold smiled, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Helga's lips. "Did I already tell you how proud of you I am?"

"You could stand to say it a few more times." Helga joked, detaching herself from Arnold's grasp. "Just do me a favor…try and remember me as I am now, and not as I will be in a few hours-clinically insane."

"It's okay, you're already clinically insane." Arnold replied, leaving Helga with a reassuring pat on her back. "I have some errands to run for my grandpa. Call me when you leave, and I'll pick you up." Helga nodded in reply, and turned back toward the ice cream shop. Taking in another deep breath, Helga began crossing the street and made her way to the door.

'I think they have a name for places like this…' she thought, eyeing the establishment. 'Oh yeah, The Ninth Circle of Hell…'

* * *

"Who is that?"

Olga followed her father's eyes to the large window a few tables away from where they were seated. Outside and across the street, stood Helga and Arnold, hand in hand staring at one another. Arnold was saying something to Helga, and Olga had no doubts that he was trying to encourage her to come inside. She could only take so much credit for getting Helga as far as she did; but Olga was very aware that Arnold had a large influence on Helga's life and decisions.

"That's Helga's boyfriend, Arnold." Olga said, trying not to give away too much information. Bob and Miriam seemed unusually at ease around her, but she didn't want to go and tell them everything about Helga.

"Hmm…" Bob said, turning away from the window.

Olga, who dubbed herself the unofficial voice of reason regarding her estranged parents and Helga, was growing somewhat peeved. She wanted to believe that Bob's concern was normal for a parent, but Helga made a valid point on the day of their latest argument. Bob and Miriam weren't parents, anymore. They hadn't been for a long time. And as Helga's acting guardian, Olga felt upset that he was judging his youngest daughter before he got a chance to speak with her.

"They both got into NYU. They start this fall." she said, sounding like a proud mother at a PTA meeting.

"NYU?" Miriam asked, her voice tinier than Olga remembered. "That's amazing. Maybe when she comes we can all…" she said, her voice drifting off and getting lost among the noise of the small eatery around them. Her eyes focused on something behind Olga, causing them to widen and glaze over. When Olga turned to follow her mother's stare, she found Helga, looking nervously around the establishment, clutching a brown messenger bag over her shoulder.

None of them called her over; just waited silently until her eyes landed on the table and she took a noticeable intake of air and began walking over. Initially, Olga wanted to stand and hug her sister, quietly reassuring her that she was proud of her and happy that she came and that everything would turn out alright. But, she surmised, that such a gesture may prompt their parents to react in like fashion, and she was aware that physical contact was not something Helga was ready for. As she watched Helga on the sidewalk, getting reassurance from Arnold, she almost wondered if Helga was ready for verbal contact with Bob and Miriam.

"Hi." Olga said, as soon as Helga slid into the empty chair next to her. Bob and Miriam muttered greetings as well, but Helga turned to Olga and smiled, nodding, however to her parents.

"We're glad you decided to come…" Miriam said, quietly. Helga expertly avoided looking at either of her parents, and was content with looking around the table and scratching her arm. "It's been a very long time."

Helga continued facing the table, but her eyes shot up to her parents; a look that read, "No figure…" even though no words followed to support them. "I suppose…" Bob began seriously. "We owe you an explanation." Helga's look returned, this time with more venom as she awaited the rest of Bob's statement.

"About ten years ago, Big Bob's Beepers was…well, it was going under. I was up to my ears in bank loans, but I had no way to pay them back. When I finally did obtain some funding, it was…well, from a far less credible source."

Olga narrowed her gaze and looked between her parents. "You…borrowed money? From a loan shark?"

"More or less." Bob answered after a few seconds of silence. "It's something that I've regretted ever since. Even after the 'loan', I still didn't have enough to pay them back, or the banks for that matter. So, before they came to me, I went to the police. Hinted that there was some illegal money laundering going on.

"I thought, at best, that the police would be able to protect us. But, they couldn't. Somehow, the case wasn't serious enough for them to grant us any kind of witness protection-"

"So, you decided to run off and make your own? A Bob and Miriam Protection Agency?" Helga asked. She didn't want the first words to her parents to be out of anger, but she didn't like the way the story was headed.

Miriam looked at Bob, as if confirming her next statement before she said it. "We considered…taking you, Helga. But, you were so young, and we didn't want you to live out so much of your youth running-"

"So, you thought that leaving me at a train station was a better idea? What? I'm too young to travel the country with my parents, but just old enough to have them abandon me?" she asked, looking at her mother now. For some reason, unbeknownst even to her, Helga never really pinned much of the blame on Miriam. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that even with Miriam's business smarts, had Bob been the one to leave them, they would not have survived for long. She fancied that maybe Miriam went with Bob out of obligation, instead of actually supporting his reasons for leaving. The conversation thus far, however, was slowly stripping her of that idea.

"Helga, there were so many things…so many things that you wouldn't have understood…" Miriam began, her face contorting, as she turned from the table to hide her tears. Exiting the table she ran toward the bathroom.

Helga looked to her right at Olga, expecting a look of disappointment and anger to mar her face. Instead, Olga looked at her sympathetically, as if she knew why Helga said what she did. Standing up, Olga left the table to possibly console their mother, all the while leaving Helga alone with Bob.

A few minutes passed before either of them spoke, and, of course, the first to initiate polite conversation was Bob. "So…Olga tells us you got into NYU. That's impressive."

"It's no Wellington University, but it's something…" Helga said, turning to look out of the window instead of at her father. Regardless of the fact that she regretted making her mother cry, she was still angry, and Bob was the only person within ten feet that she could lash out at.

"It's a great school. Do you know what you're going to study?" he asked, a hint of enthusiasm in his voice.

"Okay, that's enough." Helga said, sitting up straight and looking her father in the eye. "I know you wanna play catch up, and everything, but let me tell you now, that that's not gonna happen. To be perfectly honest, I don't want to be here right now. I only came because Olga asked me to, and I respect, love, and occasionally fear her. So, I think it'd be best if the two of us didn't talk anymore until Olga comes back from the bathroom, okay?"

Bob seemed to shrink in his seat momentarily, but continued trying to connect with Helga. He reasoned in his mind, that something aside from Olga had to have made her come. Part of her actually wanted to see them, even if she wasn't aware of it yet.

"I know that you're angry, Helga. And you should be, but your mother and I-"

"What? What else do I need to know about the two of you?" she asked, banging her fist on the table. Trying to calm herself down, Helga ran her hands over her face and through her hair. "Don't you get it? This isn't about you. It's about us; me and Olga. You say you understand that I'm angry, but do you understand why? I'm your daughter, Bob, and you left me. Do you get that?

"And, you show up in Hillwood, at my graduation party, which, by the way, you completely _ruined_, expecting some grand reception, and you're actually surprised when your kids-the ones you _abandoned_- are scared to trust you? _You're _not the victim here. Me and Olga; we're the victims. _You _hurt _us_. End of story." Helga sat back in her chair, not realizing how worked up she managed to get. Her hand flew to her pocket this time, feeling the ring through her pants. Instead of comforting her, it only served to make her more upset, and in an instant she felt the need to exit the table and the restaurant.

"I have to go." Helga said quickly, taking a deep breath, and reaching under the table for her bag. Standing up, she was able to get a few feet from the table before Bob's voice called her back.

"Helga, I know…I that we missed a lot of important things in your life so far, but we're trying. We are."

Shaking her head, Helga looked back at her father. "It's too late. You have a daughter who's going off to college at the end of the summer, and another who's married and happier than ever. It's too late to start trying now." Helga started off again, before turning back to the table. "In case you were wondering, she was the most beautiful bride anyone's ever seen. And _I_ gave her away."

* * *

"So, you think I should forgive them, too?" Helga asked, bouncing the small child on her knee.

"I'm saying that you have a right to feel the way that you do, at present. Not many teenagers are in your position, and can so freely choose how they want to interact with their parents. You need to make sure that you've weighed both sides of the coin, as it were, before you make any final decisions." Dr. Phelps said, sifting around the mint-green baby bag on her lap. She'd taken off a year off from counseling, after she found outt hat she was pregnant, but Helga made sure to keep her updated.

"What do you mean 'both sides'?" Helga asked. As far as she was concerned, there was only one side.

"You can either put your anger aside and forgive them. Start your relationship anew, while still being cautious, or", Dr. Phelps began again, taking a deep breath. "You can put your anger behind you and never speak to them again. It's entirely your decision. No one can make it for you."

Helga wrinkled her brow and tried to think. In theory, Option number one sounded like a good idea. But a relationship with her parents? Again? 'What would make this one any different from the one before?' she asked herself. She reasoned that these were the same people that left her alone and scared at age ten, knowing nothing about the world, or their whereabouts, and didn't bother to contact her or offer any explanation for eight years.

Lost in her own thought, Helga hardly noticed Dr. Phelps packing up her baby bag. "Just think about what I said. And remember, you have options. They're bound to take you in different directions, but they have a common root."

Helga nodded and stood, placing young Caroline back in her stroller. "Thanks." she answered, offering the doctor and long-time friend a short hug and watching her wheel the child away.

Once again, Helga sat alone on the bench. 'Dr. Phelps made a valid point,' she reasoned. 'Either way, I have to let go of my anger…but how?' she asked herself. Helga was certain that she could manage to not be angry at her parents, but, at the time, it seemed too far off. And she knew that they wouldn't be around forever. They didn't even need to tell her that.

She would have to forgive them someday. Someday soon.

"Waiting for someone?"

* * *

"So, you didn't talk to them at all…?" Arnold asked, only somewhat chidingly. He was proud of Helga for having the guts to meet with her parents, but slightly disappointed that she ran out on them. 'You can't expect her to go running into their arms right away…' he told himself. Maybe he was expecting too much from her.

"I did talk to them. Well, Miriam ran off to the bathroom after a few minutes, but I did talk to Bob. I figure it's largely his fault anyway." Helga answered. She was aware that it was her task to put her anger behind her, but she figured that as long as she was angry, she might as well take advantage of it.

"What did you talk about?"

"I merely gave him an update on my life, as well as Olga's. The wedding, mostly, and I hinted at the fact that the two of them completely ruined my party…the usual."

"Helga…" Arnold said, bringing the car to a stop on the side of the movie theater.

"Dr. Phelps said I can either quit being angry at them and erase them from my life, or I can quit being angry at them and be cool with the fact that they're back, okay? I just haven't decided yet." she shot out, crossing her arms. Arnold was used to the gesture.

"Who's Dr. Phelps?"

"Our old guidance counselor. I ran into her at the park. I kind of…know her." Helga said. She knew that Arnold probably wouldn't remember Dr. Bliss, and didn't feel the need to go into a long story.

"Well, I think they're both worth thinking over." Arnold added. "But, if you want, you can always talk to me-"

"What do you want to see? Cliché apocalypse movie, where the good-looking male protagonist saves the planet alongside an equally attractive female neurosurgeon, or a fluffy romantic comedy about a handsome widower who finds solace within the pages of a historical romance novel only to find out that the author is not only female, but single as well?" Helga asked, attempting to distract Arnold.

"I'll go with Option number one." Arnold said, rolling his eyes.

'Maybe I should too.' Helga thought, exiting the car.

* * *

_For once, I really have nothing at all to say. Hmm._

_Thanks for reading. _

_-Pointy_Objects_


	3. Nothing Lasts Forever

_**It's Only Life**_

_**Chapter Three: Nothing Lasts Forever**_

_"It is so easy to see  
Dysfunction between you and me.  
We must free up these tired souls,  
Before the sadness kills us both... _

* * *

"_I am __so _bored…"

"That's the general idea behind being grounded, Helga." Arnold told her.

"Crimeny, it's dull in this house. I need to get out; wanna hit up a movie?" she said, sitting up on her bed and switching the cordless phone to the other side of her face. "My treat…"

"We've been to the movies more times than I care to count, and even if we hadn't, you're grounded. That's what happens when you walk out on lunch with your parents." Arnold said.

Helga huffed in reply. "Whatever. I went to tell them what I had to tell them, and I did. There was no reason for me to stay." Helga finished. She was aware, before she even finished her statement, the absurdity that it held. She knew that she went there for more than just a screaming match with her father (which wasn't really a screaming match at all, as he barely raised his voice). She went because, whether or not she'd admit it, she wanted to see them. She wanted resolution, and closure, even though she wasn't sure what those words meant, or how they'd make her happy. And against her better judgment, a very small part of Helga sincerely missed her parents.

She wanted to tell them that she graduated 19th out of 413 students, and that she was going to NYU, and that even when she didn't want to talk to him, or when she talked too much, or when she was moody or sulky or irritable or insane, Arnold stuck by her. She wanted them to be proud of her and know that they missed out on raising a surprisingly well-adjusted child.

"You and I both know that's a lie. You wanted to see them." Arnold said, bluntly.

"Nnnnmmmmpphhh…"Helga muffled into the phone, already set on changing the subject. "If you're not going to help me off of Alcatraz, then what, pray tell is occupying your day?" she asked.

"Me and Gramps are heading up to the college to finalize a few things, you know, boring stuff. Sorry you can't join us."

"Me too. Olga's going off to brunch with you know whom. If you ask me, that's jus the stupidest name for a meal that I've ever heard. Breakfast and Lunch; there's no reason to go around trying to fuse them-"

"Olga's going out with your parents?" Arnold asked, suddenly attentive.

"Yeah, it's the only place I can go while still incarcerated." Helga said, picking lint off of her bedspread, absentmindedly.

"I'm assuming by your tone that you're not going."

"You guessed right, Footballhead."

"Don't get started, Pinky."

"Sorry." Helga replied, rolling her eyes.

"I really think you should go. And _stay _this time." he suggested. Even though the prior incident between Helga and her parent was almost two weeks ago, Helga was all too ready to complain about it, and Arnold was always there to listen. Sometimes, however, he grew frustrated with her. She was quick to remind him of her parents terrible misdeeds, and even though he saw no justification under the sun for their actions, he almost wished that she'd try forgiving them, instead of knocking the idea aside so often.

"Maybe next time." she said, quietly. He knew that she didn't mean it.

* * *

_"If you don't know,  
Then you can't care,  
And you show up,  
But you're not there.  
But I'm waiting,  
And you want to,  
Still afraid that I will desert you..."_

* * *

"Ah, sweet Freedom! I missed you!" Helga said, throwing her hands up, for the fourth time that day, and falling back on Arnold's couch. It had been exactly two weeks since her sentencing, and she was nearing the brink of insanity before her sister allowed her outside. Olga seemed to have forgotten about the incident, for the most part, seeing as something new was currently distracting her.

Helga was not happy to see that the current distraction happened to be their parents.

"Well, try not to get grounded for the remainder of the summer. There's only so much I can do alone around here." Arnold said, taking a seat next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"What about Gerald?"

"Visiting relatives. Speaking of which…"

Helga began vigorously shaking her head, inserting her fingers into her ears, and keeping her eyes shut. She couldn't escape to the park, at present, but she could act as though Arnold weren't speaking at all. Either way, she could avoid talking about her parents.

Arnold, on the other hand, was not so amused. He tried, while Helga was being held up in her room, to get her to open up a little to him, at least about her initial encounter with her parents. He fully understood her anger, but didn't want it to hinder her from real growth. Arnold recognized that, whether or not Helga realized it, her life was going to change dramatically over the next few months. She was starting college, and even though she was staying home, many of her friends would not be. With so many people seemingly leaving Helga's life, it wasn't wise for her to burn bridges. Arnold surmised that she may not realize what she had until it was far too late.

"Helga," he said, removing his arm from around her to pull her fingers out of her ears. Thankfully, she complied, but still held a feisty look in her eyes. Arnold knew better than to think she'd give in easily. "I'm being serious. Are you okay, now?"

"What do you mean 'okay, now'? When was I not okay?" she asked, leaning back to look at him.

"Helga, you ran out on your parents the first time that you had a chance to speak with them in eight years. That's a pretty big deal."

"Yeah, so what?" she asked, pulling her hands from Arnold's and crossing her arms. Arnold recognized her gesture. She wasn't just closing up physically, now. "Why would you think I wasn't fine?"

"I'm just letting you know, that you can talk to me if you want. You're not in this alone." Arnold stated, pleading with Helga to open up to him. He was waiting for her to feel like she could trust him and her tendency to lock herself away was wearing at him. He wanted to be there for her, but she hardly let him. "What's Olga up to today?" he asked, trying to change the subject…slightly.

"She's…umm…off shopping, or something. I don't know; she and Drew left before I did." Helga said, looking in the other direction and scratching her arm.

"Shopping? For what?" Arnold asked suspiciously.

"A gift." Helga said, scratching the back of her neck now. Arnold never realized how incriminating Helga's motions could be. She might as well have written it out for him, the way she was acting.

"For whom, Helga?" he asked seriously.

"It's _apparently _their anniversary, and Olga wanted to get them something. A stupid idea, really…" she said, sinking further into the couch. The way she said 'apparently', gave Arnold the assumption that she knew for sure that it was her parent's anniversary, and just decided to ignore it.

"That's nice of her. Why didn't you go?" he asked, trying to stay as calm as possible.

"I just…didn't want to go." Helga said, looking at the blank television screen. "Can we do something? I've been cooped up for two weeks with nothing to do."

"Okay." Arnold said, pulling himself up off of the couch and turning to offer his hand to Helga. She took it timidly, something that didn't escape Arnold's notice.

"Promise me you'll try again, okay? Before the summer is over." Arnold suggested.

"Next time." Helga offered, nodding as she followed Arnold out of the room.

* * *

_"Everyday...  
With every worthless word we get more far away,  
The distance between us makes it so hard to stay.  
But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe,  
It hurts but it may be the only way..."_

* * *

Arnold stared at the small slip of paper for a few moments, contemplating whether or not to go up to the door. There was a chance that he obtained the wrong address. He could have written the phone number incorrectly, or just gone to the wrong street.

He could have been completely and utterly outArnold of his mind.

Walking up the grey-concrete steps, Arnold shakily rang the doorbell and waited. Feeling like a five-year old in search of his best friend, only to come face to face with a larger-than-life adult, Arnold watched as the door swung open slowly.

Before him stood a man, almost equal in height to him, with dark brown hair and a weathered face. He wore a plain blue polo and khaki slacks, and smiled when he saw Arnold.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, sincerely.

"Hi…Mr. Phelps?" Arnold asked, nervously.

"That's me." he answered, smiling wider. "You can call me Chuck."

"Hi. I'm looking for Dr…Mrs. Phelps. She was my guidance counselor." Arnold explained.

"Sure. Come on in." the man said, stepping aside to let Arnold. Taking note of the interior of the house, Arnold concluded that Dr. Phelps was not only a master guidance counselor (she did, after all get Helga to open up to her, something that continued to elude him), but a master interior designer. The theme of the house consisted of soft colors; even the flooring was made of muted wooden planks. The sitting room, which was nearly immaculate, was painted light blue with deep brown furniture and soft, comforting light filtering through a line of glass pane windows on the adjacent wall.

Arnold was so enjoying the atmosphere of the room, that he barely noticed the woman sitting on the couch, reading a book, whilst a very young child crawled around on the blue carpeting in front of her.

"Christine…" Chuck said, motioning to Arnold, who stood partially in the hallway. "You have a visitor."

Looking up from her book, Dr. Phelps smiled when she saw who came to visit her. Her pink sweater made her rosy cheeks stand out, and like her husband she was dressed casually, but still very classy. Resting her book on the seat next to her, she stood and advanced toward Arnold, her arm extended.

"Hi. I'm Christine Phelps. It's very nice to see you, Arnold." she said, sweetly.

"You know who I am?" Arnold asked, not sure whether or not Helga mentioned him tot heir guidance counselor.

"Of course. I'm familiar with most of the student body. But, I suppose that doesn't include you anymore. Congratulations on your graduation, by the way."

"Thanks." Arnold said, as Chuck offered his wife a knowing look and left the room. He didn't need to be told that his presence wasn't necessary.

Guiding Arnold over to the chair across from the couch where she sat, Dr. Phelps, resumed her seat on the couch, and sat her child upright. "This is Caroline." she said, looking down at the baby, who cooed when her mother lifted her. "Don't worry, she won't say anything to anyone."

"Pardon?" Arnold asked.

"Granted, I'm a high school guidance counselor, but I'm also a child psychologist. It'd be unethical for me to share any information that you divulge to me. Unless of course, you're planning on hurting yourself or anyone else. You're not planning anything like that, are you, Arnold?"

"No! of course not, I'm just-"

"That was a joke." she said, smiling at him. Dr. Phelps watched as he exhaled. Even though Arnold never visited her office, Christine Phelps was sure to keep tabs on him. He was never in any disciplinary trouble, volunteered after school, and was in the good graces of nearly every teacher that he had for four years. An exemplary student, if she ever saw one.

Which was one of the reasons why his presence at her home (obviously to talk about something serious, from the look on his face) was so surprising. In an instant, the realization hit her. The one true connection that she had with him…Helga.

"How are you, Arnold?" she asked, replacing the child on the ground, and watching her crawl to a spot on the floor where her toys sat.

"I'm fine. I'm…fine." he said, nodding.

"Really?"

"Well, I have a question for you. I mean, I know you're a guidance counselor, so you talk to a lot of people my age, right?" he asked, wringing his hands.

"That I do, Arnold."

"Well, if I…I have this friend…who won't talk to me." he said, bluntly. He was very aware that his words probably meant little to her.

"What do you mean, your friend won't talk to you? Are you two fighting?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"She-they, have a problem. It's kind of serious, and it's been bothering them for weeks now. And I've tried to let them know that they can talk to me about it, if they want. But she won't. She keeps shutting me out, and as hard as I try, I can't break through that wall. It's…" Arnold said, grasping for air and for words.

"It's exhausting, isn't it?" she asked, nodding to him. Her eyes, once bright and caring where now sad and sympathetic. Arnold understood why Helga found it easy to open up to this woman. She was truly a pro.

"Yeah. It's really exhausting." Arnold sighed.

Dr. Phelps took a deep breath and placed her hands in her own lap. "What you're feeling is, as cliché as this sounds, very normal. You want to be there for your 'friend', and you're trying. What most people in your circumstances fail to understand is that, you can only do so much. And that might make it seem like you're in a hopeless position, but you're not. If you really are doing everything you can to let your friend know that you're there for her, then you've done everything you can. The rest is up to her."

"That kind of sounds like an ultimatum." Arnold admitted.

"It's not, trust me, but a relationship has to have a measure of trust in it, otherwise it falls apart."

Arnold was silent for a few seconds. "I don't think she thinks she can trust me." he said.

* * *

_"Built a wall around my heart,  
I'll never let it fall apart,  
But strangely, I wish secretly,  
It would fall down while I'm asleep..."_

* * *

"Why do you say that?" Dr. Phelps asked, tilting her head to one side."I've known He-my friend for a long time now. And, just recently, something's happened. Something really big, and kind of…hard for them to go through. I can't really explain it, but, my friend has been hurt. And now, they're making sure they don't get hurt again. I think that's why…my friend won't talk to me. She's scared I'll hurt her." Arnold said, sadly.

"Do you think your friend's fears are founded? That they have a reason to believe that you'll hurt them?" she asked.

"Well…yes and no. Yes, because, if you knew what happened to them, you'd understand why she doesn't trust anyone. She's had a hard life, up until a few years ago. But, I just want her to know that she can come to me, even if she doesn't want to…even if she _never _does, I want her to know that she _can_. And I'm scared that she'll stay like this forever….you know? Not trusting anyone." Arnold said, finally letting his shoulders relax. He was feeling much more comfortable with this stranger than he did with most adults.

"That's certainly no way to live." Dr. Phelps said. "You must care very deeply for your friend to go through such lengths to help them."

"I do." he said, still thinking on what Dr. Phelps said, and his reply. It had been a week and a half since Helga said that she would try to connect again with her parents, but instead she reduced herself to not so much as mentioning them. Arnold was sincerely worried at this point. "Do you think I should…you know…" His response was nothing but another elevation of the doctor's eyebrows. "Should I, maybe take a break? From my friend?"

"Arnold, that's entirely your decision. On one hand, this could open up your relationship. Your friend can no longer use you as a crutch, if you two aren't I constant contact. But, this could also sever the friendship entirely; something I don't think either or you want." Arnold shook his head to this. "Your support of Hel- your friend, is remarkable."

Arnold furrowed his brow and sat up. "How did you know I was talking about Helga?"

"How did you know I was your guidance counselor? You've never visited my office." she said, smiling at him.

"Helga told me." Arnold said, shaking his head. "So, you must know what's going on, then…"

"I know a little. I know that Helga's afraid and trying to protect herself. She knows that if she opens herself up again, she can get hurt again. She's pushing you away before you push her away."

"I'm not going to push her away! I want to help her!"

"I understand that. But tapping at her armor will do little. That's just how she is. I don't think you should do anything…permanent. But, maybe the two of you need a little time apart-nothing drastic. She's got so many people she's hiding from right now; her parents, you, and even Olga, I suspect. I think she's likely to shed that armor once she sees that she doesn't need it."

An hour or so later, Arnold left walking down the sidewalk with much more to think about than he was ready for. He squared his shoulders and headed home, committed to talking to Helga before the week was up. Hiss grandparents invited him on a small trip they were taking and he initially refused. He wanted them to know that he may have changed his mind and then let Helga know that he was leaving.

He hoped for the best, but still expected the worst.

* * *

_"Though we have not hit the ground,  
It doesn't mean we're not still falling.  
Oh, I want so bad to pick you up,  
But you're still too reluctant to accept my help.  
What a shame, I hope you find somewhere to place the blame.  
But until then, the fact remains..."_

* * *

"Have you ever noticed that a "snow cone" isn't really made of snow?"

"What do you mean?" Arnold asked.

"It's called a "snow cone", right? Putting aside the fact that the main ingredient doesn't even come from the sky, you can tell it's not snow when you eat it. It's like an "ice cone" or a "cone of chunks of frozen water"." Helga said, tossing the paper container to her snow cone in the nearest trashcan.

"For someone who debates what a "snow cone" should be called, you sure did eat it fast." he noted.

"Anyway," Helga said, linking her arm with his. "What are you doing this weekend? It feels like this summer is dragging on and on for no reason."

Arnold cleared his throat, before he spoke. 'Now or never…' he told himself. "I'm actually going out of town. Just until Monday."

"You are?" Helga asked, shocked.

"Yeah…Arnie's graduating from military school, and grandpa and grandma wanted to go. Honestly, I think they're placing bets to see if he actually graduated." Arnold explained, trying to lighten the mood. The two took a seat on a green painted bench, in front of a few small shops. The sun was beating down on them mercilessly, but Arnold's sheen of sweat wasn't from the heat alone.

"So, you're going too?" Helga asked again.

"Yeah. I haven't seen Arnie in a while, and it might be…fun."

Helga let her arm fall limp, so that it was still holding on to Arnold's, only with much less vigor. "Oh." she said, biting her lip and looking around and across the street.

"Hey, maybe you can take this time to…get back in touch with your parents. I mean, I'll be getting in touch with Arnie, and you can-"

"Arnold, really? I don't want to talk about it now." Helga said, pulling her arm from his completely, and silencing him. Arnold jerked back, alarmed by her sudden change in mood.

"It seems to me, Helga, that you don't want to talk about them, _ever_." he said, growing more and more upset.

"So what if I don't?" she asked back.

"You're pushing everyone away. You're pushing away the people that care about you, and want to see you happy. That means me, Helga." Arnold stated.

"I'd be happy if you'd quit bringing them up all the time. I don't want to talk to them, and I'm fine with that? Why can't you be?"

"You're not fine with it! You wouldn't be so hostile and angry and guarded if you were. You're running, Helga. And you can't run forever. It's ruining the relationships that you have with other people too. You just don't see it."

"Like how?"

"When's the last time you talked to your sister?" Arnold asked, sitting closer to her, and bringing his voice down low.

"I talk to Olga all the time-" Helga began, before Arnold cut her off.

"I mean when's the last time you _really_ talked her? Like you did before your parents showed up, and all this stuff started happening? When was it, Helga?" Arnold asked, his voice, once laced with frustration, now sympathetic and concerned. Helga said nothing, just stared at him, both angry and saddened by his words.

"I don't expect you to forgive them, okay? I don't. But I expect you to try. You said that you were going to try to put your anger behind you, that you had to do that, even if you never wanted to speak to them. And, you may think that by avoiding them means that you're not angry anymore, but you are. I can see it every time I look at you. You have to let that go." Arnold suggested.

"It's not that simple." Helga retorted, her jaw firm.

"Why not?!"

"You don't get it, Arnold! Everything I've ever had has been either taken from me, or has up and left me! What else am I supposed to expect?!" she asked, standing up and looking down at him, her brow a hard, angry line, but her eyes about to erupt.

"Expect that the people who truly care about you won't leave."

"But I don't know that! What if Olga and Drew decide to have kids? What if they move? They'll leave me too, and then what?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"And what about me? Why don't you trust me?" Arnold asked calmly, standing to meet her eyes.

"This isn't about you, Footballhead!"

"It's about you! I get that! But, I'm not any less concerned. Why won't you just talk to me? I'm willing to listen, but you won't even try!"

"Because I'm scared, okay?!" Helga shouted. Neither of them cared about onlookers, at this point. "If anyone would leave, it'd be you!

"You're so much bigger than this place, and you have a future ahead of you. And me? I'm a little girl who can't seem to let go of eight years of anger at her parents. This is just who I am, and I don't know how to stop it. I don't know if I can." she said, her chest heaving, as she spoke.

"Helga, I'm not going to leave you. You have to know that if this relationship is going to mean anything to you." Arnold said, sincerely, his heart breaking for the girl before him.

Helga tried to breathe deep, but found it difficult with the fast-forming lump in her throat and the weight on her chest. She wanted to reach forward, for Arnold to hold her and for her to disappear, even if just for a little while. "But, I can't." she whispered.

Arnold looked sullen for a few moments, and then nodded, looking at the ground. "I don't know what to say, then. I've tried everything."

Helga looked up, worried about the direction of the conversation. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that…" Arnold began, still staring at the pavement in front of him. "I mean that, I can't do anything else. The ball is in your court, Helga. I've done all that I can do."

"So, you're just going to leave?! Just like that?" Helga asked, accusingly. "You just said you wouldn't leave!"

"I'm not leaving, Helga!" Arnold said, raising his voice, slightly. "I've been trying. And now, I'm giving you a chance to do the same. Just try, Helga. I know you can." he said, before turning and walking away.

Helga stood watching his back fade, and eventually turn a corner. Time was not a factor in her mind, because before she knew it, it was dark, and she was running. Running faster than she did when she realized that her parents weren't coming back. Faster than when she decided to return to Vermont. Faster than when she did when her parents returned and began turning her world upside down.

Entering the house loudly, Helga slammed the door behind her ignoring her sister and brother in law, sitting on the couch, watching TV and ran into her room, slamming that door as well.

Her two guardians found her a few minutes later, curled up at the foot of her bed, after a noisy fit of rage sent the objects on her desk and dresser flying to the floor, and her curtains shut. They didn't need to see it to know that it happened.

They did, however miss the ring that was hiding in Helga's pocket, and went flying as soon as she entered the room, only to land on the windowsill, reflecting blue, red and green speckles of light on the wall.

* * *

_"Everyday,  
With every worthless word we get more far away,  
The distance between us makes it so hard to stay.  
But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe,  
It hurts, but it may be the only way..."_

* * *

_Yeah. I cried too. The song is by Maroon 5, called "Nothing Lasts Forever." It'll make you cry some more. _

_Later days,_

_-Pointy_Objects_


	4. Not Falling Apart

**It's Only Life**

**Chapter Four: Not Falling Apart**

_"Now, I can't walk, _

_I can't talk anymore,_

_Since you walked out the door._

_And now I'm stuck living out that night again…_

_I'm not falling apart…"_

-**Maroon 5**

**"Not Falling Apart"**

* * *

It wasn't the broken espresso machine.

It wasn't the flood in the basement that ruined all the Antigua-Guatemalan beans.

It wasn't even the Decaf, Soy half-Mocha, half-Caramel Latte Extra Hot with No Foam that was made _without _it's fourth shot of espresso.

It was…Wednesday. And, while a normal Wednesday in every sense of the word, it was still Wednesday.

And Arnold was not yet home.

Helga fumbled around, cleaning the espresso machine after a long shift, but not paying attention to her movements, much to the chagrin of her manager. She tried not be distracted by the fact that Arnold clearly stated that he'd return on Monday, and that he had yet to do so, or inform her of why he stayed. The two shared a single phone call over the course of the weekend. It lasted exactly 23 seconds (Helga stared at her phone until the numbers faded away after he hung up); just long enough for him to tell her that they made it and that reception was bad in the area. Since then, she heard nothing from him.

Customarily, her first reaction would be to get angry. But, seeing as Arnold had almost-sort-of-not-really suggested that the two take a "break" (though, she was aware that this could have been entirely contrived in her grief-stricken mind), Helga figured that he didn't really owe her anything. He could spend the rest of his life out in Ohio if he wanted, and she wouldn't care either way.

The day after he left, she sulked, and Drew and Olga strongly urged her to get out of the house and get active. She didn't explain entirely what happened between herself and Arnold, just that the two had a fight and he left for the weekend. If only they knew…

Either way, Helga volunteered to take an extra shift at work, for the sake of distracting herself. The coffee shop was small, and got little business, but Helga found things to do to occupy her mind. Namely, cleaning mundane things like, memorizing the acidity levelsof the individual roasts and alphabetizing the coffee beans. But, even with her best efforts, her mind continually drifted back to Arnold and his words.

His accusations that she didn't trust him were not entirely unfounded, a fact that she was very aware of. Regardless of how close the two got, Helga could very easily shut Arnold out, or build up a wall when needed. It wasn't so much that she didn't trust him at all; she knew that she had to have relied on him to some degree. But the fact that she, largely, kept her feelings inside was putting strain on their relationship.

"Hey Helga!" her manager called, from the back room. Helga put down her damp rag and made her way behind the counter and toward the kitchen. She heard the shuffling of wrinkled bills and waited until her manager stopped counting money before addressing him.

"Yeah, Chris?" she asked, shoving her hands into the pockets of the black apron that she wore over her work shirt. Fingering the tarnished ring in her pocket, she waited until he turned around to answer her. Her manager was a few years older than her, having recently graduated from college, and thus she felt comfortable around him. Raking a hand through his reddish-blonde hair, Helga sensed the fatigue in his stance.

"You can head on home. Let Toni finish up the espresso machine." he told her.

"Why? I'm almost done…" Helga said, taking her hands out of her pockets and letting them hand limp next to her.

Chris sighed and took a seat in the cramped office. "Helga, you've been off all day. Take it easy; head home early. I'll see you tomorrow." As stern as Chris intended to be, the concern in his voice came through. Helga nodded, turned and deposited her apron, gathered her belongings and clocked out. Walking outside, Helga was glad that the summer evening was still relatively warm. She put on her sweatshirt anyway, and began walking down the sidewalk, in the opposite direction of the bus stop. The walk home would be three times longer than if she took the bus, but she appreciated the time it would give her to think.

Over the weekend, a day or so after Arnold left, Helga phoned Phoebe, who was spending the summer in Kentucky with her parents and distant relatives, and asked her opinion. Like a true friend, she sighed, gasped and laughed at the appropriate places, and offered advice accordingly.

* * *

"_He doesn't think I trust him…" Helga told her, clutching the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she sat on the floor in her room clipping coupons. She was not sure why the need came over her, but when the newspaper arrived, and she opened it immediately, Helga had the insatiable need to save 55 cents on condensed soup. From there, it snowballed until she had the coupons arranged in order of food/product and how much she would save. She then discovered that she found very interesting ways of filling her time when upset, or without Arnold. _

"_Well, do you?" Phoebe asked. Even though the two were practically adults, Phoebe held the same pitch to her voice that they did when the two were younger, only now it came with a small twang, mostly from spending so much time with her cousins._

_Helga paused, thinking better than to answer too quickly. She knew that she trusted Arnold. She just wasn't sure how to let him know that. _

"_Yeah…" she replied quietly, setting down a coupon for 30 cents off a can of diced tomatoes in the 'canned goods' pile. "But I told him I couldn't. Crimeny, why did I say that?!"_

"_Look Helga," Phoebe said, obviously taking a seat from the shuffling that Helga heard from the other end of the phone. "I really believe that you do trust Arnold. And more than trusting Arnold, I think you're afraid. Afraid of what he might do with that trust, or even how he'll react to it. Right now, that fear is overriding that trust."_

_Helga sighed, running a hand over her face and to the back of her head, having set down the scissors and coupons that she held. "I don't know what to do, Pheebs. I always imagined, on the off chance that I actually wanted to talk to my parents, Arnold would be the person I'd confide in before anyone else. I've managed to do neither of those things, and make myself miserable in the process."_

"_Maybe you should take Arnold's advice and just try. You haven't got anything to lose." Phoebe said. "And besides, you're stronger than you think."_

* * *

Helga shook the rain off of her clothes under the bright lights of the diner, scanning the tables for somewhere to sit. The rainstorm came out of nowhere and caught Helga (and her now sopping wet sweatshirt) by surprise. Knowing it was too late for her to turn around and try to catch a bus, she merely ran until she found a place in which she could ride out the storm.

She smiled when she spotted the third table from the back door, and it's lack of occupants. Winding between people exiting the restaurant and a few waitresses, Helga secured her seat, and tapped her fingernails on the yellow table top, thinking of the first time she sat there. Three or so years ago, the restaurant was new, and fashioned after a typical fifties diner. As soon as she and her friends returned from Vermont, Arnold asked her on a 'real' date, and the two of them decided that the small diner was the best place. The night of it's grand opening, they were the last two patrons to leave, having sat at the table for a few hours, at least.

As the memory faded, Helga's smile did the same, hoping that her recent surge of humilty would be enough to get her back in Arnold's good graces. The chipper voice of the waitress distracted Helga from her sad thoughts.

"What can I get you, hon?" she asked, wrinkling her nose when she smiled. Helga smiled back at her and replied.

"Can I have a burger, medium well, fries and a cup of coffee?" she asked, sliding over the menu that she didn't bothered to open. She had the menu memorized, and already knew the total for her meal.

The waitress walked away, promising to bring Helga's coffee out first. Helga thought about what Chris' reaction would be if she told him that she had coffee from some diner, just after leaving the store. '_What?!_' he say, dramatically. _'You drank coffee from where? You know their beans are probably robusto too, right? And what are their grinding methods…'_

Shaking her head, Helga watched as the rain continued to come down. No chance of her getting home in that weather, unless a bus appeared out of nowhere to sweep her out of the rain and back home.

"Can…I have a seat?"

Helga looked up, ready to remark on the lack of people in the diner, and that this guy could find a seat someplace else, if he wanted.

When her eyes met his, though, all her thoughts left , and the words that were once in her throat left, in their place, a dry, hard lump that she could not dispel.

"Mind if I sit here?" Bob asked, not waiting for a response as he slowly slid into the booth across from his youngest daughter.

_'Stupid rainstorm…'_ Helga thought, as she straightened up in her chair.

* * *

_Another short chapter. Another cliffy. Sort of. Tee hee. My job (one of them...oh no! I have two jobs! I've become my father! Just kidding, but I really do have two jobs now), is that of a barista, and I know zilcho about coffee. So, while studying roasts and grinding methods, I wrote myself (Toni...no one calls me that except my workmates...I kind of hate it) and my manager (Chris) into the story._

_Alright, lovies, real talk. I have had the following chapter of this story done since I wrote it; meaning, if chapter two is posted, chapter three is already finished. In this case, however, I'm stuck. I have a great ending to the next chapter, and I know what needs to happen, but I feel like I'm losing Helga's character in it somehow. The draft that I have written up is...nice, but not my best. Actually, it's not even nice. It's kind of sad, the distaste I have for it at present. So, any...ANY suggestions will be greeted with warm cocoa and a blanket and a seat next to the fireplace. Please and Thank you._

_-Pointy_Objects_


	5. Goodnight, Goodnight

**It's Only Life**

**Chapter Five: Goodnight, Goodnight**

_"Her hair was pressed against her face, her eyes were red with anger,  
Enraged by things unsaid and empty beds and bad behavior.  
Something's gotta change,  
It must be rearranged..._

_"I'm sorry, I did not mean to hurt my little girl,  
It's beyond me, I cannot carry the weight of the heavy world.  
So goodnight, goodnight, goodnight, goodnight.  
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight, goodnight.  
Goodnight, hope that things work out all right..."_

"**Goodnight, Goodnight"**

**Maroon 5**

* * *

"It's a free country." Helga managed to finally say, although she was aware that her words held less of a sting than usual. Somehow her powers of sarcasm were no match for the fear she had at the conversation that was soon to come.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, nervously. Maybe she wasn't the only one scared here. Helga noticed that her father's voice was sounding less gruff, and more weathered these days.

"I just ordered." she stated, monotonously.

"Lemme guess…a burger, fries and…a milkshake?" he asked, the ghost of a smile on his face.

Helga resisted the urge to smile, or frown, but allowed the outstretched hand of her waitress to answer for her. She set the coffee cup directly between Helga and Bob, then stood up straight.

"Hi! Can I take your order?" she asked, directing her question at Bob.

"I'll have whatever she ordered." Bob said, still looking at Helga. His stare was making her nervous, and in turn, Helga began tapping her fingers on the table top again.

'_What am I supposed to say?' _she asked, feeling her brow wrinkling, as her heart thundered in her chest. Talking with her father wasn't supposed to be this hard, because talking with her father was something that Helga never imagined herself doing.

"I hope you're not a vegetarian…" he joked, as their waitress left the table.

"No way." Helga said, shaking her head. "I can't stand that tofu stuff…" she finished, surprised at the cracking in her voice. She willed herself to breathe evenly and began drumming her fingernails on the tabletop.

"You know your mother tried to 'go veg', or whatever. Only lasted a week." Helga offered a tiny smile, barely turning up the corners of her mouth and realized that she wanted to hear more about her parents. She had the feeling, however that Bob wouldn't be too thrilled about her line of questioning, or the inquiries she planned on making. "Since when do you drink coffee?" Bob asked, tapping on Helga's beige-colored mug.

"I work at a coffee shop…" she said, simply. She silently wished that she could contribute more to the conversation.

Bob ran a hand over his face and leaned back from the table. "Man, I'm getting old…" he said.

"Yeah, you are." Helga answered, with a straight face. "I mean, what are you, now…54?" she asked, allowing a tiny smile to grace her face, just so Bob would know that there was no malice in her statement.

He chuckled, his shoulders shaking as he laughed. "Older, actually." Bracing himself against the table, he continued. "It was unreal; finding out that guy at the park was Olga's _husband_. Talk about a shock…"

Helga quirked an eyebrow toward the sky. "You had to have known Olga was going to get married someday. She certainly got close enough with that Doug guy…" Helga stated. She was growing more and more comfortable with talking to Bob, even though they were miles away from having anything resembling a typical "heart to heart".

"Yeah, but that…that put things into perspective. Reminded me just exactly what your mother and I missed out on."

"You missed a lot." Helga said, staring out the window, sadly. She felt the heat rise up in her face and a familiar anger begin to cloud her vision. She didn't want Bob to sentimental and emotional. "I know I already said it, but you picked a really crappy time to come back. I mean, it's the summer before I start school and a month after Olga gets married. Did you plan this or something?"

"Of course we didn't. We had no way of knowing."

"Yes, you did. All you had to do was come by every once and a while. Check a local newspaper for graduation or wedding announcements. If nothing else, you could have used one of those sketchy, online "Find A Relative" search engines. There's no excuse for eight years of not being in contact with your kids. None." Helga said, crossing and uncrossing her arms. "I can't believe you thought that this would be easy." she said, muttering the word as if the possibility of it alone was laughable.

"I knew it wouldn't be easy, I just didn't think it'd be this hard." he said, running a hand over his head and thinning grey hair.

"Well, life's full of little disappointments, isn't it, Bob?" she asked, turning away to stare out of the window. The rain had yet to let up a little, but she hoped that it would by the time her food came and she was ready to leave. There was no telling what would transpire between herself and her estranged father if she chose to stay. "Did you miss us? Me and Olga?" she asked, quietly. She told herself that she didn't care and in her mind, the question came out as callous and uncaring, but when she spoke them, her voice was so timid, that she felt almost scared at his response.

"Your mother and I…we thought about you girls everyday…every hour. We were lost, we didn't know what to do.

"Everyday was a struggle; knowing the two of you were having to raise yourselves. It tore us up inside. We thought about coming back over and over. We just didn't imagine that we'd come back to two grown women, who didn't need us."

"That doesn't mean we didn't want you around." Helga said, rubbing at her dry face, even though her eyes were brimming with tears. "I mean, yeah, when you guys were around you were always forgetting stuff, and being annoying and getting my name wrong, but you were around. It wasn't _so _bad having you around."

Bob stared at his younger daughter, somewhat in awe. There was a time when getting any sort of response out his daughter was either impossible, or cost him 150 dollars and an afternoon at some ridiculous musical. He was elated that she was opening up to him, even if just a little, but saddened that it was his fault.

"I know it'd be…too much to ask, your forgiveness, probably impossible, but-"

"It's not." Helga said, wiping at her eye and effectively dampening the left side of her face. "I mean, it's not impossible. It's not likely, at least not for a good, long time, but, you kind of…I mean, I already….I don't mind…you know." she said, sniffling between her words. Leaning to one side, Helga dove her hand into her pants pocket and pulled out a ring. It was far too small to fit even her pinky finger, and when she held it up, the pink, green and dark blue stones reflected light over the table. The band was once gold-plated, but after years of wear and tear, it was more of a patchy light brown, with darker spots. Instead of saying anything she slid the ring across the table, leaving it an equal distance from herself and her father.

Bob took the ring from the table, and held it in his massive hand. Turning it over, he stared, and slowly smiled. "Wow…" he gasped. "You kept this?"

Helga nodded, and reached for it. "You meant to give it to Olga, for her birthday, right? She was turning 18, I think. It was too small for her, so you came up to my room-remember? I didn't want to go to her party- and tossed it on my bed, and said, 'Here Olga. That's for you.'"

"I did that a lot, didn't I? Calling you 'Olga'?" he asked, nodding.

"A lot more than you realize. But, for some reason, I didn't care. It was like a real present, even if it wasn't meant for me. So, when I got to go back home, and collect all my stuff, I decided to keep it. I still don't know why." Helga said, turning it over and over before replacing it in her pocket. "Bob, you and I were never close. And, maybe we won't ever be, even if you and Miriam were staying-"

"How'd you know we-" he said, interrupting her, but Helga held up a hand to stop him.

"I just did. Don't worry about it." she said, sadly. "But, regardless, maybe we can…I don't know, work something out." she finished sounding more assured than she had for the entirety of the night. "Now, if you don't mind, I really need some meat and potatoes to take the edge off all this mushy stuff." she said, managing to smile a little.

"I hear you there. Where's that waitress, anyway?" he asked, and the two fell into silence again, only this one was far more comfortable than the last.

"So…speaking of rings…you're not thinking about…getting married or anything, right?" he asked, making his mouth a stern, straight line. Helga wrinkled her brow at the question, wondering where it acme from and also whether or not her father was slipping into senility before her eyes.

Raising an eyebrow, she lifted the ring and asked, "See this ring?" When he nodded, she continued. "This is the only one I have. Plus, I'm eighteen…and _broke_. Certainly in no position to be married." Helga said.

Bob drummed his fingers on the table and smiled. "Let's just hope that boyfriend of yours doesn't _try _giving you any rings, anytime soon." he said, half-jokingly, half-warningly. Helga rolled her eyes.; she was aware that Bob was just happy to be in her presence without the threat of being left, or having something thrown at him, but she also knew that this mood, this brief feeling of elation and recovery wouldn't last forever. She knew, before he said it, that he and Miriam's stay wasn't permanent.

"Speaking of which," he began, nervously tearing his napkin into small squares, and staring at the table. "I heard you have a…a boyfriend." he said. Helga almost laughed at the squeamish way in which he spoke the word.

Slumping in her booth, Helga raised her eyebrows and chuckled to herself. "Actually…not so much these days. It's kind of…complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Bob asked, clearly apprehensive about her answer. "Did he…did he _do _something?"

'_Is this what it's like to have a Dad again?' _Helga asked herself, taking a chance to sigh, annoyed. _'I think I liked him better when he was calling me 'Olga'…'_

"No, he didn't do anything." Helga began, getting back into the rhythm of talking to her father. As a child, she could never come out and tell him anything. He wasn't one to readily understand her, and he rarely, if ever, bothered to listen. Being in the presence of a Bob that actually listened, while still taking time to assume the worst, was different for Helga. "Apparently…I have a problem trusting people. So…yeah." she said, not wanting to go into any details. Far from a 'heart to heart', the conversation with Bob was already making her feel like an emotional schmuck, regardless of the necessity of it, and she didn't want to make it worse by divulging to much of herself at once.

As if by some miracle, their dark-haired waitress returned, balancing two identical plates of food. Helga welcomed the distraction; the conversation was getting far too personal for her liking and she wasn't ready to think about Arnold more than she already was.

* * *

"What does…what do you guys do for money?" Helga asked apprehensively. It was never something she thought she would ever have to ask her parents upon meeting them. At the same time, she never thought she'd ever meet her parents again. The night was shaping up to be an interesting one, if nothing else.

"Your mother works as a nurse at one of those…umm, what do you call 'em? Convalescent homes…like for old people." he said, explaining. Helga rolled her eyes at his jargon.

"I know what convalescent means, Bob." Helga said, a bit harsher than she intended. She tried to soften the blow, but she noticed the hurt on his face. "What about you?"

Bob looked around nervously, looking almost embarrassed. Helga waited a few more seconds before he replied. "I'm a construction worker, so I do a little bit of everything; masonry, scaffolding, installing drywall, that kind of thing."

"So, why do you look so embarrassed? Lots of people are construction workers." Helga noted. She received no reply, just a shake of the head from Bob and the sight of him moving a few cold fries around on his plate. Helga surmised that, like her, he wasn't ready to divulge everything to her, and maybe never would. She found herself oddly pleased with that line of reasoning, and stared out of the window. The storm passed, for the most part, a few sprinkles still coming down, but far more welcome than the deluge that started barely an hour ago.

Resting a ten dollar underneath the napkin dispenser, Helga began her departure, an event that she expected to be longer than she wanted and far more awkward. Standing up slowly, she braced herself for the uncomfortable goodbye that was to follow.

"Well, um. I think I'm going to head out. Since it's not raining or anything." she said, clutching the strap of her bag tightly.

"Are you sure you don't want a…ride, or something?" Bob asked, poised to stand, until Helga held out her hand to stop him.

"Um, to be perfectly honest, I'm somewhat glad that I no longer have a searing hatred for you, at least for the time being, but I really don't think it would be wise to push our luck. Don't you agree?" she asked, although her statement required no real answer.

"Agreed." Bob said, smiling at the wit only his youngest daughter could get away with. He watched her shrug again, and mumble something resembling, 'See you around', before exiting the small diner and walking out into the rain. As she lifted the hood of her jacket over her head, Bob kept an eye on her until the bus pulled up a few seconds later and her silhouetted form climbed upon the vehicle and disappeared.

It took him a solid four minutes to look up from his hands; fingers laced within around each other, and blink away the tears that were blurring his vision. Across from him, atop a clean, white napkin sat the tarnished ring that he once carelessly threw at his daughter. Instead of a pang of guilt or even remorse, Bob found himself smiling as he reached across and took it into his hand. His first real gift to her, was her first gift to him.

If nothing else, he felt hope. Refreshing, seemingly blind, remarkable hope.

* * *

Helga did not announce her arrival to her home; it was something she never saw the point of. Even when she tried to sneak in, Drew and Olga both seemed to know when she was home, and never looked surprised, even when they were. She wasn't sure why she expected them to be, but a little variety never hurt anyone. Instead, she entered the house, shed her wet and muddy shoes at the door and walked into the living room, only to find Drew and Olga watching something on TV; Olga's legs propped up on Drew's lap.

"Hi." she said, expecting some kind of interrogation. She knew from experience that Olga and Drew 9as a team) were more lethal when they _didn't _start shouting right away.

"Hi, Helga." Olga said, barely tearing her eyes away from the television. "How was work?"

Helga shifted her sock-clad feet around on the carpeting beneath her. In her mind, she screamed, _'I just had a long, slightly awkward conversation with our biological father; ask me how _that _was!'_

"It was fine." she answered, lying. "Chris let me off early."

"Really?"

"Yeah, like…_two hours ago_." Helga said, deadpanning.

"That was nice of him…" Olga said, reaching for the bag of potato chips near Drew's left leg.

Helga was getting fed up. She'd just spoken to her father, the same father that she vowed to hate until the end of time, and needed to tell someone. She needed to ask someone how she was supposed to feel, and the two people closest to her couldn't seem to realize her concern.

"Excuse me, but I am _two hours late_ coming home form work. As my legal guardians, I would think that you'd care about where I was for _two hours_." Helga said, rounding the couch and staring at them. In response, she received two pairs of eyes that were desperately hiding the smiles of their owners.

"We know where you were, Helga." Drew finally said.

"Your manager, Chris called. He told us that he let you off early, becaus you seemed upset and thought something might be wrong. But, when he was driving home form work, he saw you at a diner with an 'older looking gentleman' and thought that we should be informed of your whereaboutse ." Olga said, smiling.

Helga blinked at her sister and brother-in-law, keeping her hands at her hips, and internally questioning why every awkward moment seemed to be happening to her, as of late.

"Oh…well, goodnight, then." she said, standing up straight, and abandoning the living room for the hallway. Olga's voice stopped her before she could disappear from their sight.

"I'm very proud of you, Helga." Olga said, sounding entirely sincere, despite the volume of her voice. Helga rolled her eyes and responded with a mumbled, "Yeah, yeah…", before Drew could speak.

"I'm proud of you, too, Baby Sister." he chimed in, loudly. Helga raised an eyebrow at his addition, to which he only beamed more so, knowing that Helga loved him far too much to be offended by the silly, worn out nickname.

"Goodnight." she said, finalizing the conversation, and making her way down the hall. She smiled to herself, several minutes later as she climbed into bed, somewhat please with herself.

'_The hardest part is over…' _she thought before falling asleep.

_"So much to love,  
So much to learn.  
But I won't be there to teach you.  
I know I can't be close,  
But I'll try my best to reach you..._

_"I'm so sorry, I did not mean to hurt my little girl,  
It's beyond me, I cannot carry the weight of a heavy world.  
So goodnight, goodnight, goodnight, goodnight,  
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight, goodnight.  
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight, goodnight,  
Goodnight, hope that things work out all right..."_

* * *

_That's right, Helga. The hardest part is over. For me, anyway. This chapter was hard, because I had to get Bob and Helga just right. The Helga before was too forgiving, too quickly and Bob was just boring. I hope this is a little better. And I know I've used about four million Maroon 5 songs, but that one is just too perfect for this story. Forgive me._

_Jae B has a Danny Phantom fic that I kind of want to check out, even though I know little about the show, and then, I'm going to fetch my comforter out of the dryer (or I might fetch my comforter out of the dryer_ now_, and then snuggle up and read his fic, so then I can be warm and toasty while I read), and then I'm off to bed. A wonderful night to all!_

_-Pointy_Objects_

_P.S. Aww man. My dryer has a little timer on it that tells you how long until your clothes are done, and I still have 26 minutes. No warm-snuggle-reading time for me…Anyway, goodnight, friends._


	6. Truffle Hound

It's Only Life

Chapter Six: Truffle Hound

* * *

Helga surmised that it should have been harder to sneak a pig out of someone's house. At least harder than it was for her to do so. Especially when that house is occupied by thirteen or so absolutely crazy people. The realization that she actually accomplished her meager goal, didn't truly hit her until she was nearly a block away, walking behind a plump, but still energetic, Abner.

"You better be happy that I'm such a good person," she told Abner, as they continued walking. "I could sell you to a farm or a factory if I felt like it…"

Helga walked with no destination in mind, and had she been alone on her walk, she'd have been content with wandering around aimlessly, wallowing in her own despair. Despite the fact that, just the night before, she made strides in the field of reconnecting with her 'father' (she wasn't quite sure if she was ready to use that word with him), the calendar on her wall told her that it was Thursday, and she still heard nothing from Arnold.

She didn't doubt, even in the recesses of her often illogical mind, that Arnold was coming back. That was never in question. His feelings upon returning, however, were a mystery. She wondered if he would even want to talk to her once he came back. She had, after all, told him that she was scared to trust him with her own feelings, and even though she regretted the statement from the moment that she uttered it, she had yet to properly apologize for it. At the same time, Helga tried to remain optimistic (even though she told herself that she really wasn't any good at it) and imagined Arnold's return, in a _best_-case scenario. In a perfect universe, he'd come by the house with chocolates, but no flowers, and apologize for his truancy. She would apologize for her lack of trust in his devotion to her, and in the end, they'd both walk off, into the sunset, gorging themselves on chocolate.

There was a reason why that approach was being labeled her _ideal _one.

"Abner; do you mind if I call you Abner?" Sure as she was that Arnold would (someday) return, she was also certain that by no chance would Abner actually respond to her. Nevertheless, she continued. "You're Arnold's pet, right? And I'm…well, technically, I'm still his girlfriend. So, one would think that you and I have something in common, right?

"So, answer me this, Abner: why isn't he back yet? I mean, I spent, what should have been a maddening, hour across a diner table with my…with Bob," she said, out loud, but still under her breath. "And one would think that I would get some sign as to whether or not I'm moving in the right direction." Before Helga could move her thoughts onward, she felt the aged-leather leash pull her forward, as Abner (whom she didn't realize until just then, was a relatively large pig), and off the sidewalk, into the grassy area of Tina Park. She struggled to rein him in, but the speed that they were moving, combined with the incapability of her sandals to find stability on the soft grass, made that feat impossible.

Just as the ache in her legs was getting to be unbearable, Abner abruptly stopped in front of an old tree, moving around somewhat randomly, sniffing the ground and grunting happily. Releasing his lead, Helga flopped down on the grass next to him; lifting her chin and watching the soft breeze move the leaves of the tree back and forth. She only stirred when Abner deposited a handful of truffles next to her hand.

"Stupid pig." she grumbled, closing her eyes. "I should have made you into bacon or something." she finished slowly, allowing the lat rays of sunlight to pass before her eyes, before she fell asleep.

Upon waking up, Helga was happy that the sun was still up (though not as high in the sky as before) which meant to her, that she managed to not sleep away the entire day, as was her nature when she had much weighing upon her mind.

Groping around the ground, Helga was not shocked to find that she woke up under a tree in Tina Park. Nor was she surprised to find that she was alone. Crawling on her knees, she brushed the numerous truffles out of her way and peeked around the tree to see if he was nearby. He wasn't. Standing up, somewhat unsteadily, Helga surveyed each tree in the vicinity of the park, her nervousness growing with each step she took until she was running in circles, panicking.

'It's alright Helga. This is not a big deal at all. You've only lost your boyfriend's most beloved pet and friend in record timing, but this could be worse. Besides, how many pigs are there in this city?' Helga thought, willing herself to calm down.

Regardless of her efforts, she began searching the park with her eyes, hoping to see a spot of pinkish flesh, with the intention of running towards it. Even when she looked slowly, attempting to calm her racing thoughts, nothing caught her eye, except the usual park-goers, moms pushing strollers, children running around wildly, and the like.

By the time Helga walked back down the hill, Abner's empty leash in her hand, she was near hyperventilating, but no closer to finding Abner. She tied to think of Abner's usual haunts; the places where Arnold said he'd wander to on the few occasions when he happened to leave the house alone. Most consisted of dumpsters, vacant lots and landfills. Basically, any place where there happened to be a lot of garbage.

Helga heaved a sigh and began walking to the nearest landfill site. Somehow, she reasoned, whenever she stole something from Arnold, it always left her down in the dumps.

* * *

"Young lady, you can't enter this establishment…smelling like _that_."

"Rest assured, I know exactly how I smell. But, I'm looking for something very important, and I just need you to hang this flyer in your window."

"I'm not hanging anything anywhere, until you remove yourself from my establishment!"

Helga quirked an eyebrow at the shop owner and rested the flyer on the countertop before turning and leaving, in all her filthy glory. While a lot closer to her in age, the newest owner of 'Green Meats' was slightly more uptight than his father, who was always a stickler for a clean establishment, but realized the mischievous nature of the neighborhood children, and generally didn't mind their antics. His son, however, after taking over the family business and adding a fancy 'Also Serving Alternative Choices' to the end of the nearly infamous butcher shop's title, served to be less community aware than his father. Mr. Green, on the few occasions when he would drop by, reassured anyone who asked that, in time, his son would be as warm as any other Hillwood-dwelling resident.

Helga sat outside of Green Meats, her back flush with the brick wall of the building, realizing that she was completely and utterly out of any ideas at all. It was no less than three hours since she lost Abner, and in that amount of time, she managed to search out every dump and landfill in the city, as well as make crude flyers advertising that Abner was "missing", and directing people toward her cell phone number, seeing as she still wasn't sure when Arnold would be back home, and didn't want him to receive phone calls regarding a pig that he didn't even know was lost.

Hanging her head low, Helga let the evening sun warm the back of her neck, until the phone in her pocket began to stir. Halfheartedly reaching into her pocket, she stared at the number, before answering. No name was connected with the number, so she answered the phone tentatively.

"Hello?" she asked. For all she knew, someone could have found one of her flyers, and used the opportunity to prank call her.

"Hi. I think I found your pig."

* * *

Helga paced around her hidden spot in the same park where she lost Abner, hoping that she was adequately concealed from most of the park goers. If she made it obvious to whomever made the mysterious and brief call that she really had no reward or incentive in mind, they may have been prompted to leave or use Abner as some kind of leverage. She could only imagine how Arnold would have reacted upon coming home to find that not only did she lose Abner, but, upon finding him, someone decided to keep him until she could produce what would probably equal a ridiculous amount of money.

Helga pressed her back against a large tree, hearing someone approaching. She was told to meet in the thick grove of trees, secluded from the remainder of the park. Helga inquired as to why the caller wanted to meet her in such a discreet place, but her answer came in the form of a click, and the call ending.

Looking around the tree, Helga listened as she heard the far off oinking sound coming near her. She nearly beamed at seeing the pink ball of flesh; a feeling she wasn't familiar with, as Abner did little more than annoy her and interrupt herself and Arnold when they were alone somewhere in the boarding house.

Abner came up to her, his heavy body nearly colliding with hers and began licking her face. The gesture was sweet, but his breath stank of a fusion of peanut butter, ranch salad dressing and dishwasher detergent, and she found herself pushing him off of her to sit up straight again. Looking in front of her, she saw the feet planted on the grass, and followed the legs, all the way up to the face, she knew was watching her.

'Just my luck…' she thought, releasing a breath. Of course, to quell her anxiety over her somewhat estranged boyfriend, she would, indirectly kidnap his pig, lose it, and have it returned by none other than, her boyfriend, himself.

She sat on the grass, shielded from the sun by the trees for a few more seconds, Abner lapping at her hands as she stared at Arnold, who stood over her with a half smile on his face, knowing, that, without even trying, he managed to trump his girlfriend.

Helga looked around, frantically, before reattaching the leash she carried with her and trying to pick Abner up. Despite graduating with the honor of being the Girl's Field Hockey captain, she attempted to lift Abner off the ground, and struggled slightly. Finally making it to her feet, and feeling Arnold's amused gaze on her as she did so, she staggered away, huffing.

"May I ask where you're going?" he finally asked as she moved past him.

"I have to return this pig to it's rightful owner." she gasped out, shuffling down the hill.

"Um, I'm right here."

"No." Helga said, trying to turn quickly, but nearly dropping a squealing Abner in the process. "No, his rightful owner is my boyfriend who was due home nearly three days ago." she said, turning some of her anger on him. 'How dare he just show up out of the blue as if its Monday, and nothing has transpired between us?' She thought, barely able to breathe. She finally dropped Abner to the ground, who oinked happily and trotted back to Arnold.

"Abner seems to think differently." Arnold said, bending to pet him.

"He's a pig. He doesn't know any better." she said, taking in deep gulps of air. "I stole him."

"What?" Arnold asked, standing again, and advancing toward her.

"I stole Abner. Because you didn't come home, and I didn't have anything to do, and Olga and Drew kept telling me to go do something and quit moping around the house, so I went to yours, and Ernie was there, and I said you wanted me to walk Abner while you were out town and he believed me, and while I did he ran away so-"

"Helga." he said, stopping her. "Be quiet."

"Well, I was just telling you what happened while you were away." she said, sounding offended, even though she wasn't. More than anything, she just wanted to confess that she spoke to her father, and that she was trying to let go of some of the anger she knew she still had, but that she needed help. "Glad to see you had such a remarkable time."

"I did. It was a blast. Arnie is a lot more fun, these days."

Helga whirled away from him, knowing that she probably deserved his sarcasm, before he spoke again.

"I had a horrible time."

Helga stopped in her stride and turned to face him. "What?"

"I had an awful time, The graduation was five hours long. Arnie is still boring, still dull as a rock, and still in love with you. We only stayed because the Packard broke down on our last day, and the only auto body shop in the entire town had to order parts. I'm sorry."

Helga sighed, and finally looked Arnold in his eyes. He looked tired and apologetic. There was the ghost of stubble on the end of his chin, where a few scant hairs sat. His eyes were slightly bloodshot; they'd probably just came home, after driving all morning.

"Don't be sorry." Helga said, not happy about getting so sentimental, just moments after seeing Arnold for the first time in days. "I was the one who said I couldn't trust you."

"I know you didn't mean it." he said, stepping closer to her.

"I didn't. I can… you know...trust you and stuff." she said, looking around at the foliage around them.

Arnold smiled at Helga's discomfort with expressing her emotion, and didn't take it personally. "Come on, let's deliver Abner to his rightful owners…he said, taking her hand, and walking in the main area of the park, Abner following them, absentmindedly.

As they left the park, Arnold began talking about the boredoms of the country, his insane relatives, and the like. Once they reached Vine Street, Arnold finally asked, "So...what did happen while I was away?"

Helga smiled, knowingly. "Nothing much. I took a few more hours on at the coffee shop, met with an advisor…the usual."

"You didn't go on any dates while I was gone? I'm shocked." he said, sarcastically.

"Okay, for one thing, lay of the sarcasm. It's not your forte." she said, checking over her shoulder every now and then to make sure Abner was still following absentmindedly behind them. Aside from stopping at the occasional trashcan to sniff around, he stayed no more than a few feet behind them. "And, actually, I did go out last night."

Arnold looked at her quizzically as she continued. "I went to the diner on 3rd street. It was raining, and I wanted a bite to eat."

"You went to our diner?" he asked. "You didn't sit at-"

"Yup. Third table from the back door. Just like always."

Arnold looked half-skeptical, and half-offended. He and Helga rarely went to the diner unless the other was meeting them there, and they never sat at the third table from the back door unless they were with each other. "And who, pray tell did you meet there?" he asked, expecting her to drop the story and admit that she really stayed home and watched reruns of CSI: Miami, like she usually did.

"No one in particular. He just sat down across from me. I didn't have the heart to tell him to take a hike, and it was raining so hard, I couldn't leave." she said, looking straight ahead, knowing, either way, that Arnold was staring at her wit disbelief.

"He was…nice. Nicer than I expected, at least." she said, remembering the evening. "We talked for a while. It was…hard at first. I was just angry that he was there, but I think…I think-"

Arnold stopped Helga in the middle of the sidewalk, a few pedestrians passing them on the concrete path. "Helga, what are you telling me?" he asked.

"I just hope he didn't leave my ring at the table. It's the only real gift the guy ever gave me." she said, a small smile creeping onto her face.

Arnold dropped his shoulders and smiled. He knew the ring Helga spoke of; she wore it around her neck at their high school graduation, and told him the story behind it that evening. "You talked to your dad…" he whispered, not fully believing it.

"Hold on, Tex. Let's not go handing out titles. He's my male biological DNA donor. Not much else, right now."

"So, what happens next? What'd you talk about? How long are they-"

Helga shushed Arnold with a kiss. "Arnold. Be quiet." After a second, she went on. "I don't know what happens next. They're not staying long; they'll probably be gone by the time we start school."

Arnold noticed the shift in her mood, and squeezed her hand. "Well, the hardest part is over."

"That's what I thought…I guess we'll see." she said, optimistically.

"Don't worry too much over it." Arnold assured her. "It's not the end of the world. It's only life."

* * *

_A/N: Hey! I did it! I finished this chapter! I've been stuck since April. See what a few encouraging words and heavy doses of Nyquil can do? I feel just great. _

_Next chapter will be the last. Everyone stay safe this winter. I'm about to go outside in the snow, and probably regret it. Bye!_

_-Pointy_Objects_


	7. It's Only Life

_A/N: The final chapter, of the final installment of the Back Home Sequel: It's Only Life. This chapter will be (short, for one thing…sorry!) started by your's truly, in an airport in Atlanta, and (hopefully) finished by the time I get to Florida…I've got 2 ½ hours till my flight boards, and then an hour and a half on the flight there. Four hours…let's make it happen._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the following: Hey Arnold, The Brincess and The Frog (I wish), Avatar (I wish), or Kate Voegele's song, "It's Only Life"._

**It's Only Life **

**Chapter Six: It's Only Life**

_

* * *

_

_"Tears are forming in your eyes,  
A storm is warning in the skies.  
The end of the world, it seems,  
You bend down and you fall on your knees,  
Well get back on your feet..."_

"Did you hear what I said?"

Helga snapped her head to her right, and smiled to let Arnold know that it was by no fault of his own that she was so tremendously distracted. An otherwise routine subway ride was made more intense, simply by the destination, their first trip of many.

"I said, we can meet up on 4th for lunch if you want." he said, repeating himself.

Helga nodded, attempting to smile, but momentarily allowing her nervousness to overtake her. She bit her lip until it stung, and she mentally scolded herself. She had more than one reason to be nervous, on that day, but worrying over them unnecessarily would do nothing but make her more upset, and possibly cause some bleeding.

"Don't worry…" Arnold told her for the third time that day, squeezing her hand.

"I'm _not _worrying." she replied, looking as though Arnold suggested something impossible. She settled into her seat, even though the voice over the subway car told her that she (and the thirty or so other people her age) were nearing the campus and would need to proceed to the nearest exit soon. Using her free hand, she gripped the strap of the bag over her shoulder and followed Arnold out of the crowded subway car into the terminal, and eventually, out in the busy street. She tried to pay attention to the school buildings they passed, remembering certain ones from her tour a few days back, while others looked unfamiliar and the names were foreign to her. She found herself looking to the grey morning sky, and biting her lip again.

It had been two weeks since she last spoke to Bob and Miriam. She was at work one day, when they came in, fresh from a midday outing. Helga was caught off guard; she was mentally preparing herself to see them, even with the foreknowledge that they would very soon be leaving her again. Where relief once would have stayed, planted, apprehension took it's place, and it scared her. She was no Olga; she had no intention of ever becoming such. She wondered why, then, the thought of Bob and Miriam leaving again, would make her upset.

Regardless. When they came in, looking perfectly composed, she suspected that relaying to Bob that she worked at "a coffee shop sent the two of them in search of every coffee shop in the tri-county area. She used her fifteen-minute break to chat with them, somewhat awkwardly. Miriam surprised her with a hug, one that she probably would have rejected in any other instance, but for the sake of mending bridges, she accepted it, and in return offered her a napkin to wipe her eyes. In those short fifteen minutes, they informed Helga that they would be leaving for Arizona sooner than expected…two days. Helga feigned indifference, but the two promised to keep in touch, as discreetly and as soon as they could. Nodding, she watched them walk away, no less effected than the time before, but stronger, nonetheless, and with a glimmer of hope.

In front of the stone building that read the university's school name in blue, Helga stood, still hand in hand with Arnold, who was talking to her. She looked at him apologetically and smiled, while he continued on.

"…the café on 4th, okay?"

"Yes, Captain." she said, rolling her eyes. Helga noticed that Arnold was particularly fragile with her, since he came back, and especially since her parents left. She tried gently letting him know that she was fine; that it was nothing that she hadn't been through before. The statement made fear flash across Arnold's face, something she did not expect. Unsuccessfully, she attempted to explain that she really was fine, but, after an evening out, Helga realized that Arnold always did respond to physical assertions then verbal, anyway.

* * *

_"Don't look away, don't run away,  
Baby, it's only life,  
Don't lose your faith, don't run away,  
It's only life."_

* * *

"_That was good."_

_Yeah, it was…" Helga said, quieter, adjusting to the wind of the late evening and pulling her thin jacket closer to her. The summer sun was still red in the sky, but the breeze had a chill to it that she did not expect. "It was better than I expected, anyway." she said, without thinking._

"_What do you mean?" Arnold asked. _

"_I thought it would be kind of…I don't know, boring science fictiony, with a badly written and distracting love story thrown in. It was a lot better than I thought. That's all." she said, feeling her eyebrows coming together. _

"_Did you…_not _want to see Avatar?"_

"_No, I wanted to see it." she lied._

"_No, you didn't." _

_Helga wrinkled her brow, fully, upset that he could see through her ruse. "It doesn't matter now. We saw it. It was good. Another score for James Cameron." she replied, trying to lighten the mood. _

"_We agreed that you were going to pick the movie." Arnold said, stopping on the sidewalk. _

"_I did. And I picked…to see a movie I knew _you _wanted to see. That's how relationships work. Sometimes you have fun, and sometimes I have fun, and sometimes both of us have fun. But, sometimes, one of us is having fun, simply because the other is having fun, even though the activity isn't, in essence, fun. Get it?"_

_He looked at her seriously. "I know, I just wanted you to…"_

"…_to not feel so stinky about having my parents leave, by getting my way and seeing 'The Princess and The Frog' again?" she inquired. _

_Arnold attempted to maintain the stern look that Helga usually reserved for him when he used "good" in place of "well", but, knowing that he didn't have nearly as much practice as she and, declared defeat, smiling at her. "Kind of."_

_Helga took a breath, and tried to calm down. A rant was brewing inside of her, and Arnold did not deserve it. "Look, Paste-For-Brains…I'm…well, I'm weird. When I say 'I'm fine', most of the time, I'm lying. But, sometimes, I really am fine. Did I want Bob and Miriam to leave? Maybe. A little. Did I want them to stay? Probably not. Do I think they'll contact me? Maybe not. That's not something I'm prepared to lose hair over, just yet._

"_But, rest assured, what we see at the movies is going to do little to sway my mind one way or the other. So, there's no need to tip toe around me, or sit through another 90 minutes of singing frogs."_

"_The singing frogs weren't so bad." he commented, as they continued walking. _

"_Better than giant blue people with tails?"_

"_Helga, I'm a guy. Nothing's better than giant blue people with tails."_

* * *

_"Take your hesitance, and your self defense,  
Leave them behind, it's only life.  
Don't be so afraid of facing every day,  
Just take your time, it's only life,  
I'll be your stepping stone, don't feel so alone,  
Just hold on tight, it's only life..."_

* * *

Helga shifted the packet of stapled papers back and forth over her lab table. Her first class was destined to be the most daunting, and as a result, her least favorite. Her Human Biology and Anatomy professor was going on about a 32 page paper that was due at the end of the semester, and Helga allowed her mind to leave her momentarily.

When she and Arnold parted, he assured her that she'd be fine, and "they" would call. Although he was just seeking to further comfort her, she didn't think that she'd necessarily be receiving a "call" from Bob or Miriam. They said that their contact with her would have to remain as discreet as possible, and in that summer alone, Helga learned how paranoid her parents truly were. No, she doubted they'd call her anytime soon.

While she pondered how, and if, her parents would choose to contact her, the class was dismissed, the first assignments given out and books designated. Helga left the room, fishing her phone out of her back pocket. Lila was, every hour, on the hour, sending her photos of herself in Hawaii. Lila claimed that she always wanted to go to the University of Hawaii at Manoa, but Helga only heard of the aspiration rather recently. Opening the email on her phone, she entered her password and email account. Smiling at the Lila's photos of herself in a pretty violet sundress and her "esteemed classmates" (in reality, just the first ten or so attractive guys she happened to run into on the campus), she scrolled up to her most recent messages. Sorting through the junk mail and advertisements, the last one Helga came across was from an email address made entirely of random numbers and letters. There was nothing in the subject line, and Helga's first inclination was to delete it; thinking it to be a scam, or a virus. Against her better judgment, she opened it, and moved the screen down, cautiously. The picture at the bottom of the page brought a wide grin to her face.

Lila's had nothing on this one.

In the photo, against a bright orange and red-turned violet sky, stood her parents, as she was finally 'okay' with calling, smiling back at the camera. Under the photo, the brief message read:

'hi! arizona is beautiful. wish you were here. how was your first day of school?'

Helga smiled at the picture, and turned her phone off, tucking it back in her pocket, set on replying when she could devote her time and words to coming across as happy as she was, without seeming as giddy and excited as she knew she would be.

_"Don't look away, don't run away,  
Baby it's only life,  
Don't lose your faith,don't run away,  
It's only life."  
_

* * *

_:D_

_That was even shorter than I thought it'd be. BUt, I think I've said everything I need to with this story. A very small part of me wanted to end this with helga getting married, and even though Bob and Miriam are in attendance, Olga still gives her away. Oh well. I've got about 45 minutes before I have to board…and there's a brightly lit magazine store about 50 feet away. I might distract myself with that, and once I get on the plane, write a bit of my 'Roses' prequel. It's really, good; you should check it out while I…chill at the airport, and hope that the rambunctious little girls across the gate are not seated behind me. I sat in front of a girl on my way here, and she kicked my chair so hard, I think my tailbone is broken. Bye!_

_In Florida...kind of bored...doing a lot of writing. Oh, and yes, I did see both of the movies referenced in this, and the perpetual 10 year-old in me thinks 'The Princess and The Frog' is better, but the huge nerd in me...still kind of thinks 'The Princess and The Frog' is better. But as far as aliens go, 'Avatar' definitely tops 'The Princess and The Frog'. Have a good New Years, everyone! Stay safe! I'll be here...in Florida...chillin' with my grandma. "Ain't no party like my Nana's tea party..."_

_-Pointy_O_


End file.
